Everything goes Nutso Ratchet and Clank
by Internet Luv Masheen
Summary: Stupid humor with no end. Seriously. I'm not writing the last chapter. It died on the vine. End of story? Everyone goes back to normal after a Deathstar like chase scene. YAY!
1. Cosmical Thingeemabobbers

Everything goes nutso, Ratchet and Clank style

by SoulfulZen

Cosmical thingeemabobbers

Something goes freaky somewhere up in the sky and strange things happen. Many stories over many topics, all under the title "Everything goes nutso".

Hello, I'm SoulfulZen. This is the first fic in my "Everything goes nutso" series. No, it won't be just the same story with different characters, it will be more or less messed up depending on the series. Warning, some of these might be or be changed to R-rating. I'm a dirty, bawdy little monkey.

Disclaimer: I don't own Ratchet, Clank or any other characters. They belong to Insomniac studioes. But I owned them once, just once, and for only a second, 'cuz then I woke up.

(Somewhere in space, near two humungous red and green planets which are in contact and rotating to each other, Ratchet and Clank fly by in their ship)

Clank: Ratchet, I assume we discussed why this is insane?

Ratchet: I know, I know. These two planets are polar, and the planets alternate between attracting and repelling every fifteen minutes.

Clank: And how long does it take to get between them?

Ratchet: Seventeen minutes.

Clank: Now do the math. Seventeen minus fifteen equals?

Ratchet: Two minutes.

Clank: In which we are flattened like pancakes.

Ratchet: But that blueprint capsule floats between them. The one with plans for the strongest armor and weaponry in the universe? AND the cutest robot girl?

Clank: But is it really worth it?

Ratchet: Hell yes! With that gear, I can save Angela from that slime planet she's stuck in! (yes, in)

Clank: (sigh) All right. Get it over with. We have 15 seconds before the planets separate.

As the two began their approach to the point of contact, and because these planets are highly viscous liquid planets (like a gummi rock, but not soft), that point is pretty big, the planets began separating. Ratchet began to bring his ship to full speed.

Ratchet: Aaaaand... now!

He gunned his engine and began flying full speed into the mess. As his ship's nose hit the point of contact, the planets continued apart. He was going through as fast as he could. About eight minutes later, he saw the capsule, and with his bare hand, grabbed it and pulled it into his ship. He then gunned the engines again to catch up with the separation. He had seven minutes left, and he wasn't even halfway through.

Clank: The walls are coming together behind us!

And so they were. The two were two minutes from the entrance when the point where the planets sucked together again was chasing them

Ratchet: Uuunngh! It's catching up on us! And the controls are totally crushing my groin!

Clank: Deal with it!

The end was visible at last! They still had to hurry! They had not a moment to spare!

Ratchet: That's it! Time to pull out my secret weapon! (hits a switch on the dashboard)

Clank: What in the world are you doiiiiiiiiiiiiiiaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!

Ratchet: (struggling against the Gs pushing him into his seat) Afterburners!

Yes, he had literally put on the afterburners. They got out alive. And as I type this, I must be pretty wasted, because the top half of my text is floating to the left, off of my screen and into the sky, and I'm neither high nor drunk. I need sleep.

Clank: We made it!

Ratchet: Hell yes, bee-yotch! Wait. Hey Clank, why are you in the driver's seat? And why am I in the passenger side seat? I could have sworn that I was driving through those planets.

Clank: That's odd. My scanner says that you indeed WERE driving. Maybe it was something to do with those afterburners and the shifting magnetic fields. Maybe they switched our locations.

Ratchet: Whatever. It's probably nothing important.

(two months later, Clank's bachelor pad and apartment in Megapolis, chatting in the main room, not as buddies, but as mechanic and patient)

Clank: Well, the strange thing is that I've been having this odd sensation in my legs.

Ratchet: Woah. That's odd, especially since you can't feel. Tell me, do you want to scratch at it?

Clank: Yes! Yes that's what my motherboards are telling me to do.

Ratchet: How can a robot have itchy legs? And how odd is it that I sprained my ankle yesterday and never felt it? It's like we have the exact opposite symptoms of one another.

Do you all think that that's a little odd? Well, it gets weirder. Something in the cosmos shifted, and it's going to affect more than just Ratchet's area of the universe. Just wait. Things get more messed up as it goes. Remember, Confucius say "Man who stand on toilet is high on pot.", and that I know a lot.


	2. A date, a toilet and insanity

Everything goes Nutso, Ratchet and Clank

by SoulfulZen

Chapter 2: A date, a toilet, and insanity

Ratchet finally gets a date with Angela (maybe more) and screws it up, Clank learns the mechanics of the organic bladder, and the cosmic misalignment causes crazier stuff. RatchetxAngela (which is far too rare today). Oh yeah, happens about three years after Going Commando. PG-13 for language and vague drug reference, as well as use of alcohol, dating, romance, reference to urination, and some randomness.

Disclaimer: None of this crazy crap is mine. Ratchet and Clank and all affiliates belong to Insomniac studios. The Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster belongs to Douglas Adams. Most of the foods come from something that I or my parents have eaten.

Clank is feeling itchy in his legs. He's FEELING itchy. Plus, Ratchet twisted his ankle and couldn't tell until after he saw his foot pointing backwards. This story assumes that Ratchet moved to a less barren planet into a new house after his second adventure. The house is on Endako, in the suburbs of Megapolis, and yes, I am also assuming that it has suburbs.

Ratchet: (snoozing on the couch) Damn migets, where's my gun?

Clank: Ratchet? (pokes him in the side)

Ratchet: (waking up) REDNECKS! Err... what?

Clank: Rednecks?

Ratchet: Sorry. I'm just a little sleepy and all. What were you saying?

Clank: You have a phone call.

Ratchet: Thanks. (picks up phone) Hello?

Angela: Hi, Ratchet?

Ratchet: Hey Angela.

Angela: Thanks again for saving me from that slime planet.

Ratchet: Hey, no problem. Anything for you.

Angela: Thanks. Sooooo, I was thinking of how to repay you. (begins blushing) Could I, er, uh, buy you dinner sometime?

Ratchet: (blushes furiously) Uh, no need. You don't owe me anything.

Angela: But I insist!

Ratchet: Alright. So, um, did you, er, have anything in mind?

Angela: Well, um, (blushes absolutely furiously) do you like seafood? Because I know this cozy little place on Pokitaru, and I wanted to show it to you. It's really nice.

Ratchet: (blushes an impossibly deep shade of red) Uh, sure! Seafood's excellent! So, er, when were you thinking on doing this?

Angela: Uh, (blushes the same shade of red) how about, er, I mean if you don't have plans...

Ratchet: I don't have plans for another week.

Angela: (to self) Yes! (out loud) How about, um, uh, er, (gets redder than physically possible) tonight?

Ratchet: (gets just as red) Uh, sure! That's perfect! So, when can I pick you up?

Angela: Actually, why don't we, uh, meet at the beach by the landing dock in the resort? Say, uh 7:45?

Ratchet: Wonderful. See you then. Bye.

Angela: Bye. (both hang up) Sigh, I love him. (blushing fades)

At Ratchet's brand-new house, at the same time, Ratchet is on cloud nine.

Clank: Ratchet? Is everything okay?

Ratchet: (in an odd voice, acting stoned) Yupper doodles! Everything is hunky dory! Just wonderful! (smiles very stupidly, in a way that can be only described as either stoned out of his mind or struck on the head by a very large, hard, blunt object, such as a cinderblock) Okay, I'm gonna go get some sleepytime! Hehe! (skips off to his room)

Clank: Ratchet just skipped. He warned me what to do if this happened.

Begin Flashback to six months ago, at Ratchet's house old house on Veldin

Clank: But what do prosthetics have to do with sniffing dried, powdered sap through a straw?

Ratchet: What the hell did you just say?

Clank: Erm, nothing. What were you saying again?

Ratchet: Yeah. If you see me skip, please hit me on the head with a blunt object or slap me hard. Got it?

Clank: Understood.

Back in Ratchet's room, he is lying in bed just giggling. Clank walks in.

Clank: This is for your own good. (bitch-slaps him hard as hell)

Ratchet: Yeow! Thanks. I just hope it doesn't leave a mark. (looks at self in mirror, no mark) Whew.

Clank: Why were you skipping?

Ratchet: Er, um, uh, erm, uh, that, uh, information is, er, um, on a need to know basis, and you, uh, don't need to know?

Clank: Ah.

Ratchet: I'd better leave in an hour. I'll go get ready. Just let me wake my hand up. (begins rubbing right hand) Damn it's cold.

Clank: Your hand?

Ratchet: Obviously.

(one hour later, Ratchet is in a nice hawaiian tuxedo, no oxy-moron intended)

Clank: (sniffing a dry-erase marker) Mmm.

Ratchet: (bursting in) Ta da! How do I look?

Clank: (tries to hide marker and matching smudge on nose) Ahh! Oh. Er, you look great.

Ratchet: Seriously?

Clank: Really.

Ratchet: Well, I'd better get going. And, er, what's that smudge on your face?

Clank: Nothing!

Ratchet: Okaaaay. (leaves and flies off)

Clank: Whew.

(half an hour later, Clank is on his fifth marker, now also watching adult television programs.

Clank: Mmm, sweet nudity and dry erase markers.

Suddenly, his eyes widened as a pressure above his legs began making it's presence know.

Clank: Bathroom! (runs to bathroom)

From the bathroom is heard sounds of flowing liquid, then flushing. Clank walks back out, sits down, begins to continue sniffing, but then pauses.

Clank: What just happened?

(same time, on Pokitaru)

Ratchet had landed about ten minutes ago, the valet has parked his ship, and he is sitting on the pier, dangling his feet. Angela lands behind him.

Angela: Hey! Ratchet!

She hops out of her ship and gives her keys to the valet. She is wearing an aquamarine dress, and looks quite stunning.

Ratchet: Angela! (begins blushing) Hi! You look awesome!

Angela: Thanks. (blushes) You too.

Ratchet: Thanks. (blushes even more)

Angela: Ready to eat?

Ratchet: You know it.

They then walked to the restaurant without incident. The restaurant was a quiet little place, looking like a large beachside cabin, soaked with saltwater with a painted sign over the door. However, the small windows glowed with an inviting warmth, like a house with a small group of friends having a quiet get-together. Inside, it had small tables for two, booths for two, and in the cornet, it had two big couches that each sit three. Between them there was a bamboo table. The bar was made of a warm, reddish wood with a thin coating of plastic to prevent splintering. The chairs were small and wiry, but very comfortable and strong. The tables were wire frames with black marble tops, and had a 2-foot diameter for close couples seating. The small, one-legged, wooden tables for the booths had a 3-foot diagonal. They were of the same material as the main bar. Also, near the couches was a roaring woodfire, burning quite an aeromatic wood. All in all, a beautiful place for couples and small parties to dine. The Bartender was Michael Jackson. I'm not talking about the "it" that molests small boys. He's a freak. I am talking about Michael Jackson, the British beer expert. He's cool. The name and skin color is where the similarities end. They're both white people named Michael Jackson. One is an it, the other is a man. One is a black-haired, clean shaven person, the other has brownish hair, a moustache and a beard. One's American, the other's British. The menues were a light tan with hints of sea-blue. The binding around the plastic was a forest green, and the metal corners were shaped like seashells. Also, they were very thick, with almost 10 pages. The silverware was pretty much nondescript. This is only so detailed because I want to put a detailed picture in the reader's mind. The waiters and waitresses had tan rugby shirts and dark, dark, almost-black brown pants. After I was done explaining, Ratchet and Angela walked in.

Ratchet: Wow. This place looks and smells awesome.

Waiter: Hi. Would you like some cocktails before dinner?

Angela: Why not?

The waiter brought them to the bar. They took two stools next to each other.

Jackson: Hi, what's your pleasure?

Angela: What do you have?

Jackson: Everything.

A man at the end of the bar begins speaking.

Man: Excuse me? Bartender? I'd like a Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster.

Jackson: (raises an eyebrow) Alright. You'd better have a strong stomach. (brings out a fizzing green drink) Here ya go. (goes over to Ratchet and Angela) So, what did you want?

Ratchet: What's up with that Pan Galactic Gargle thingy?

Jackson: The Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster? Just watch.

As they watched, the man drained his glass. His eyes bugged out and his skin reddened. He began twitching. He almost looked like he was having a seizure. But, then, he just stopped and uttered two words.

Man: Holy shat!

Then he fainted.

Jackson: So, you want one?

Ratchet: No thanks.

Angela: Me neither. I'll just stick to, er, do you have anything that's sort of low alcohol? I kind of have a low tolerance for the stuff.

Jackson: Try a pussyfoot.

Angela: Is it any good?

Jackson: Quite tasty, and alcohol free.

Angela: I'll go with that.

Jackson: And you sir?

Ratchet: What'sa vodka martinicalled?

Jackson:A kangaroo, also known as a vodkatini. I say kangaroo because it's a nicer name.

Ratchet: Alright then, one kangaroo.

Jackson: One pussyfoot, one kangaroo, coming right up.

With the immense skill that he had, the drinks were ready in a moment.

Angela: Thanks.

Jackson: No problem. That's what I get paid for. (walks off)

Angela: What a nice man.

Ratchet: I agree.

Angela: But you're still cuter.

Ratchet: (seriously blushes) Thanks.

As they were chatting, they sipped their drinks slowly.

Ratchet: So, when did you find out about this little place?

Angela: Back when I helped design the protopet, the team leader asked us all to meet here. I instantly fell in love with the place.

Ratchet: Love at first sight, eh?

Angela: Hmm.

Ratchet: Hmm.

They began just staring into each other's eyes lovingly and smiling. And sipping their drinks. They got slowly closer. Their drinks were finished. They were almost kissing they were so close.

Waiter: (breaking the silence) Uh, are you ready to eat?

Ratchet: (shaking himself) Wha... oh yeah. Dinner. Uh, Angela?

Angela: (blinking) Dinner? Oh yeah. I'm ready if he's ready.

Ratchet: I'm ready.

Waiter: (thought) Shoot. I just broke a romantic gaze. I wish I hadn't. (out loud) Chairs or booth?

Ratchet: Either.

Angela: Chairs.

Waiter: Chairs?

Ratchet: Chairs it is.

Waiter: Good. Please follow me.

The two sat at the table that the waiter stood by.

Waiter: By the way, name is Matt, and I will be your server for the night. Can I get you some drinks?

Ratchet: What beers do you have?

Matt: May I recommend one of our microbrews. We have Flat Tire, Laughing Lab, IPA, and Road Dog.

FYI, I'm just naming some beers that I've seen in my family's garage, which is where we keep any food that we don't need inside at the immediate moment, because we buy mostly in bulk. They're all local beers, so unless you're from the Centennial state, you wouldn't have heard of them. To quote a state motto joke, "Don't ski? Don't bother."

Ratchet: I'll go with a Flat Tire. Angela?

Angela: I'll have a raspberry iced tea.

Matt. Wonderful. (brings out two menues) Here are your menues. I'll be back in a moment with your drinks.

He leaves and the two lombaxes begin leafing through their menues.

Ratchet: Hmm. The mahi-mahi burger sounds decadent. What sounds good to you?

Angela: I'm stuck between the clams casino and the lobster bisque. What do you think?

Ratchet: (flips to the page) I personally would go with the lobster bisque. It sounds delicious. But that's just me.

Angela: I know, its just that it has heavy cream.

Ratchet: Ah.

Angela: Hmm, I'll go with the... lobster bisque. Hey, maybe the next time we hang out we could go to the gym.

Ratchet: (laughs) Ha! With your figure? Probably not. You'd probably have to eat five bowls of that bisque to need to work out.

Angela: (gigles and blushes) Thanks.

Matt: And here are your drinks. Now, have you decided on something to eat yet?

Angela: I'll have the lobster bisque.

Matt: Decadent. I don't recommend looking in the mirror for a while though, that stuff has a big chunk of lobster and then a pitcher of warm, specially seasoned heavy cream.

Angela: (jaw drops) Wow.

Matt: Second thoughts?

Angela: Hmm... no. I need an excuse to go to the gym. (thought) And maybe take Ratchet with me.

Ratchet: I'll have the mahi-mahi burger.

Matt: One warning, don't put it down, or else it will completely fall apart. It's that tender.

Matt wrote the orders down and walked off. The two began the small talk.

Ratchet: Soooo, how have you been doing?

Angela: Pretty good, with the exception of the slimeball that I got stuck on. How about you?

Ratchet: Just a little strangeness. Other than that and you getting stuck in that slimeball planet, pretty great.

Ratchet just stared at Angela for a minute.

Angela: What?

Ratchet: I just never really realized how infinitelybeautiful you are.

Angela: (blushes redder than a lobster shell) Aww, how sweet.

Then, it was happening again. The two were just staring into each other's eyes. They were getting closer by the second. They were just staring at each other, as if there was nothing in the universe but themselves. However, there was obviously a waiter also in the near vicinity.

Matt: Um, excuse me, but your food's ready.

Ratchet: Hmm? Oh yeah. Food. (chuckles)

Anglea: Yeah. Food. Thanks. (looks at meal) I feel like I'm getting fat just looking at this.

Ratchet: Ooh, this smells great. (takes a bite, chews and swallows) And it's so tender and delicious! How's yours?

Angela: (sips a spoonful) Mmm. It's like a party in my mouth and everyone's invited!

(half an hour later, all the food and drink is gone)

Ratchet: God my arms are sore. That guy was right about not being able to put it down. But it was worth it.

Angela: I know. That was the most decadent thing I've ever eaten.

Ratchet: Hmm.

Matt: (taking the empty dishes) And would anyone like dessert or after-dinner drinks?

Angela: No dessert, thank you. But I would like a drink. Ratchet?

Ratchet: Same here.

(ten minutes later, both a bit tipsy at the bar)

Angela: I love you.

Ratchet: And I love you too.

They kissed. Full on, lip to lip, which turned quickly into tongues. They were so passionately Frenching each other, when Angela pulled away, screaming and bleeding out the mouth. Her tongue had been cut in half.

Ratchet: AAAHHH!!! What the hell? Call 911!

Jackson: Got it! Try and stop the bleeding!

Ratchet: Got ith! Whath?

He suddenly realized that the missing half of Angela's tongue was caught in his tongue. He stuffed a napkin over the bleeding point, leaving enough room for her to breathe. The ambulance came soon and took Angela and her tongue. She survived, although her annunciation was not as good. Note: Annunciation means ability to pronounce. Ratchet just slapped his head with the hand that wasn't asleep and winced because it had hurt his hand, and decided to fly home to wash the blood off of his face and out of his mouth, after a quick chat with the bartender.

Ratchet: What the fuck just happened...

Jackson: Kid, I've seen every kind of situation a drunk or two can get into, but this... this was new to me.

Ratchet: Hmm.

Later at home, Ratchet and Clank had a chat.

Clank: And then as I was... er... eating popcorn and watching... the Science channel, I felt a pressure in my lower torso, and I instinctively ran to the bathroom. And the weird thing is, I urinated!

Ratchet: What!?! You pissed!?! But you don't have a bladder, or a urethra, or kidneys, or any of that! That's just fucking impossible.

Clank: I know. Has anything odd happened to you?

Ratchet: Well, now that you mention it... (begins to speak a little more sadly) Angela and I, we were kinda drunk. (blushes a deep red)She said she loved me, and I said that I love her back. We were (blushes even more) uh, sort of, uh...

Clank: What?

Ratchet: Uh, we were, uh... kissing. (two red circles appear on Clank's face) Tongues and all. And somehow, while we were, er, kissing, her tongue got cut in half.

Clank: Did you bite down or something?

Ratchet: No! That's just weird.

Clank: Allow me to examine the internal of your mouth.

Ratchet opened his mouth, and Clank got out a small light and a magnifying lens. He looked around in Ratchet's mouth, but he didn't have to look long. He reached in and grabbed Ratchet's tongue.

Clank: I see now. It seems that you have... a robotic tongue!

Sorry to leave you all at a cliffie, but you'll see what happens. I have the plot figured out. And yes, it gets weirder. And the drug references get more frequent and vague. Angela's response to her bisque was something that I got from somewhere, though I can't remember where. The mahi-mahi burger in my story is available for purchase at the 19th street café in Glenwood Springs, Colorado. The lobster bisque is available at Legal Seafood in Massachusetts. The one we went to was on the peninsula. I think it was somewhere near the tip, but don't quote me on that. I think that there's another Legal Seafood in Boston, but again, I'm not sure. Ah well. Also, the restaurant, I think, is completely original. And the "clams casino" dish, I don't know where you can get that.


	3. A Robot and his Lombax?

Everything goes Nutso, Ratchet and Clank style

By Soulfulzen

A Robot and his Lombax

Continuing the Everything goes Nutso series, after Ratchet and Angela's "incident" and Clank's first piss, everything will get even crazier. PG-13 for drug references, random insanity, language and slight offensiveness.

Disclaimer: Only the plotline is mine. Ratchet and all subsidiaries belong to Insomniac studioes. Text denoted with underlining was inspired by communications between myself and Warior.

Warning: If you do anything that Clank does in this fic, you will be seriously messed up! Don't do it! And don't drink in excess or smoke anything! If you do, you are beyond my help! I am a strong anti-smoker, anti-drug dude. Seriously, though, don't repeat what Clank does or says.

The day after the rastaurant incident, in the morning, Ratchet was about to wake up to a serious oddity.

Ratchet: (yawn)

He awokened and loosened up.

Ratchet: Good morning Endako.

He yawned again and tried to crack his metal fists.

Ratchet: (sound of metal scraping against metal) What the... Holy Hell!

He finally noticed that his hands were metal. He pulled off his covers and discovered metal feet and a metal torso in additon to hands. Fortunately his boxers were okay and everything under them was in mild discomfort due to his metal torso.

Ratchet: Oh...my...god! I gotta call Clank!

He ran to his videophone, being thankful for a reassuring warmth touching his legs. However, at Clank's apartment, things were worse off. Clank's legs and arms were missing half of the ring-shaped segments, from which yellow-orange tufts of fur stuck out. Clank was already up and running to his videophone. As he was about to pick it up and call Ratchet, it rang.

Clank: Hello?

Ratchet: Clank! Trouble! I'm turning metal!

Clank: Well, Ratchet, unless you are quite blind, you can see that I am growing fur. I am turning organic somehow.

Ratchet: Alright, it seems you're turning into something living, and I'm turning into a robot.

Clank: Wait! The planets! Remember how we turned up in the wrong seats?

Ratchet: Oh yeah! So maybe you're turning into a lombax! Okay, let's not panic. Let's...

He stopped. Clank's metal exterior, with the exception of his head, fell off, revealing a miniature lombax body with his head, wearing absolutely nothing. At the same time, the reassuring warmth against his legs went cold and began shrinking. He reached down and felt only a cold, hard, smooth surface.

Ratchet: START PANICKING! AAAAAHHHHHHHH!

Clank: AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

It had been two weeks since the insanity begun, about a week and four days since the incident where Ratchet realized what was happening, and Angela has finally left the hospital, and she has her tongue back. Ratchet is a robot, and looks like a metal statue of his former self, minus the fur, which he has been shedding furiously over the last week. Clank has become a mini Ratchet-clone. Angela, once home, planned to call Ratchet up and asked what the hell happened. In her apartment on Grelbin, she decided to make the call.

Angela: Well, here goes nothing. (dials Ratchet's house)

Over at Ratchet's house, about an hour earlier, he was working on disabling the videophone screen temporarily. He even hooked a button up to activate and deactivate it. Suddenly, Clank walked in the door, cringing.

Clank: Need...bathroom...and...food!

Ratchet: One at a time!

Clank: Oh. Yes.

Of course, Clank's organic voice box gave off his old voice perfectly, as did Ratchet's new mechanical one. After Clank relieved his bowels and stomach, he began to chat with the complacent Ratchet.

Ratchet: Man, you were hungry!

Clank: Yes, well, I have been inhaling the fumes of a burning plant.

Ratchet: What? You've been...smoking?

Clank: I don't recognize your terminology.

Ratchet: Alright, what plant did you burn?

Clank: The man I bought it from called it "Cannibis".

Ratchet just gawked at the now-stoned robot, er, lombax. Interrupting the conversation was a ring on the videophone.

Ratchet: I'll get it.

He picked up the phone and heard Angela on the other end.

Angela: Ratchet?

Ratchet: Angela! Hi!

Angela: Hi Ratchet. First off, what happened at the restaurant?

Ratchet: Alright, this may take a while. What was happening was really weird. Maybe a visual would be more effective...

Clank: I would agree in the utmost.

Angela: Yeah. And what's wrong with the video camera on your phone?

Ratchet: I added an on/off switch.

Angela: But why?

Ratchet: You'll see. It's really weird.

Angela: Just turn on your video camera.

Ratchet: Okay.

He turned on his video camera, giving Angela live, streaming video of him as a robot and Clank as a midget lombax. Angela just stared.

Angela: Uhh, is your camera messed up or have you become a robot and Clank a lombax?

Ratchet: Uh, it's the second one.

Angela: Oh.

And she fainted. Ratchet and Clank raced over to Angela's house on Grelbin to make sure she was okay, and chappie 3 ends as the sun sets on the robot and midget lombax flying into the sunset.

Author's Note: The contest to take over this fic is OVER. I'm going to finish it, as it's gotten quite a bit of praise. Everyone who has reviewed is one of the beautiful people. You all rock.


	4. Holy Monkeys! Science can't do jackdiddl...

Everything goes Nutso, Ratchet and Clank

By Soulfulzen

Holy monkeys! Science can't do jack-diddly!

Continuing the Everything goes Nutso series, Ratchet is a robot and Clank is a druggie lombax. Angela has found out everything, and fainted. Our cross-species heroes are now trying to get across the universe to save her. Actually, they've already arrived. PG-13 for drug references, random insanity, slowly-worsening language, inneudo, and offensiveness.

Disclaimer: Only the plotline and Planet Zymog are mine. Ratchet and all subsidiaries belong to Insomniac studioes. The pitas mentioned in the warning belong to the evil spirits who dwell in my bedroom and attic. Believe me, you do NOT want to know how I learned about those pitas.

Warning: If you do anything that Clank does in this fic, you will be seriously messed up! Don't do it! If you do, your ass will curl up and crap out legged pitas filled with bleu cheese! Seriously, though, don't repeat what Clank does or says.

LOCATION: PLANET GRELBIN, TUNDOR WASTES

After landing, Ratchet and Clank ran inside Angela's house. Clank rushed off to Angela's bedroom to see if she had a stash that he could raid, along with maybe some warm clothes for his trouser-wearing, drug addicted ass, and Ratchet ran around to find Angela. He found her passed out in front of her videophone. About that time, Clank found a trapdoor under the fuck-ugly pink and orange rug. He walked down the stairs and turned on the light. What he saw was any druggie's dream: lots and lots of pot. He got right down to work desposing of it. After he closed the trapdoor and re-covered it.

Upstairs, Robo-Ratchet was getting desparate trying to wake Angela up. He was going to the kitchen to get more water, when he finally slipped on a banana peel and crashed into the floor. Angela woke up and cracked up. She than began telling Ratchet her idea. "So Ratchet, if we take you to Megacorp, maybe someone in the science department can help you!". Ratchet then said "Uh, what were we talking about?" She then told him "Oh. Sorry. I was just saying that if we took you to Megacorp, someone might be able to turn you and Clank back to normal!" Ratchet then said "Oh, sweet! Let's get Clank and, after I make absolutely sure that you're medically 100 okay, go!" She simply said "Okay! But maybe you should focus on the medical thing first."

ILEAVETHENAUGHTYBADSCENETHATTAKESPLACEWHERETHISDIVIDERISTOALLOFYOURNASTYDIRTYWRONGIMAGINATIONSSICKTWISTEDREADERMONKEYS

Ratchet and Angela were searching for Clank. Ratchet, oddly, was wearing a red silk bathrobe with an "R" monogrammed on the pocket and smoking a pipe. Eventually, they got back to the bedroom, where Angela said "You know, this rug's been here the whole time I've lived here, and I've never looked under it." She lifted it up, and, lo and behold, it's a trap door! They went down into the lighted room after the acrid fog that came out of it cleared and found Clank sprawled out on the floor, semi comatose and twitching. His eyes were very red and dialated, and he was twitching and laughing like mad. Did I mention that he was twitching like a hamster in a generator? They picked him up and went to Ratchet's ship, and took off.

LOCATION: SPACE, EN ROUTE TO YEEDIL

In the ship, Ratchet put in a CD marked "Metal, like me!". Out of his huge, powerful speakers started blasting Marilyn Manson's mOBSCENE.

Author's note: All music on this CD I recommend wholeheartedly. It's good. Really good. Not to mention listed at the end of this fanfic.

Angela just stared at Ratchet, until he said "Ever since I became fully metal, I've had a taste for heavy metal music, like this. This is just my favorite CD." She said "Ah." and put in earplugs. Clank just lied in the backseat and twitched.

LOCATION: PLANET YEEDIL, FIZZWIDGET'S OFFICE

After getting through the intro to Omerta, they landed. After a brief incident at security involving Clank's state of heavy intoxication, they got to Fizzwidget's office. He sent them to the science and experimentation labs on planet Zymog.

LOCATION: PLANET ZYMOG, SCIENCE OFFICES

When the trio arrived, they were escorted to the test labs. Angela was then led to a guest room by the test workers, who simply said "Your friends will join you sometime during the night. You will all be staying in our guest rooms until we have cured them." So, as neither she nor her friends got a word in edgewise over the workers hurried pace, she slept. After all, the high pace had tired her out. That night, she heard a knock, and when she opened the door, Ratchet and Clank were dumped on her floor. Clank slept next door while Ratchet and Angela made sure that they were both 100 medically fine. In his memoirs, Clank wrote "While I was heavily stoned at the time, I still had a very difficult time sleeping or forgetting why. My "neighbors" were making such loud noises, nobody could have slept:"

Author's note: Yes, I am a nasty little monkey.

About a week later, the workers came back with a result. It was that they could not do anything for Ratchet or Clank. They then promptly picked everyone up and threw them into Ratchet's ship. They programmed a course for Ratchet's home and started the CD. After they took off, one of the workers said "Well, who wants their sheets?" Everyone there said "I do!"

LOCATION: MEGAPOLIS OUTSKIRTS, RATCHET'S HOUSE

About a day later, our heroes landed on Ratchet's driveway. When they got out, Ratchet looked around and when he saw how neatly the ship was parked, he gave a long whistle. "Wow," he said, "Even on a perfect day, I could never get this ship parked this perfectly on this driveway on the first try." Angela asked "How many would it take you?" "At least two, more depending on what was going on." he answered. They all went in. When Clank asked for fifty dollars to go "fill up the tanks on the ship", the lombax lovers tied him up and dragged him to rehab. On the way back to Ratchet's house, Ratchet offered to let Angela spend the night, as it was already after dark. She took him up on his offer, and then asked if she could stick around for a while, to make sure that Ratchet and Clank got well adjusted to their new species. Ratchet said "Thanks. It's going to be tough adjusting to normal life as a robot. And Clank's got problems already." They both smiled. When they sat down to check the news a few moments later, Angela gave Ratchet a quick peck on the cheek. However, as it had been very cold out that night, her lips stuck. After a brief medical crisis, the two settled down for a long sleep.

Well, how'd ya like it? Read and review, no flames por favor. It's shorter that I wanted it to be, but it seemed that the sleep was a good end for the chapter. And yes, I know, it's kinda lusty and naughty, but hey, what do you want? At least it's somewhat discreet-ish. Most of my fanfiction will be a bit more harsh from now on. Also, if you think that this fic should be upped to "R", please say so. I really don't think so, but hey, that's just me.

Following is a list of all of the music on Ratchet's CD. If you like death metal, download or buy all of these immediately. They're good. Really good. Oh yeah, by "buy" I mean get the CD with them on it. If a song has a next to it, it has explicit lyrics. If it has a , then it might have explicit lyrics, I'm not sure, but I couldn't hear any. But so what? I really don't care, but I'm just being safe, so I don't get sued by angry parents.

Marilyn Manson: mOBSCENE

Slipknot: Everything ends

Lamb of God: Now you've got something to die for

Hatebreed: Facing what consumes you

Marilyn Manson: Tourniquet

Slipknot: My plague

Lamb of God: Ashes of the wake

Rammstein: Du hast

Marilyn Manson: Long hard road out of hell

Slipknot: Peopleshit

Lamb of God: Omerta

Disturbed: Down with the sickness

Slipknot: The shape

Lamb of God: Remorse is for the dead

Slipknot: Duality

But finally, poll time! Who thinks that I should kill off Angela in this story? C'mon, tell me!

Now for poll #2! Who thinks that I should have the crew go to Naboo (Property of George Lucas) and kill Jar-Jar Binks (Also property of George Lucas)?


	5. Road Trippin!

Everything goes Nutso, Ratchet and Clank

By Soulfulzen

Road trippin'!

Continuing the Everything goes Nutso series, it's been a week since the last chapter and everyone's bored. Clank is out of drug rehab, so they all take a tour of the galaxy. T for death metal, random insanity, violence, language and offensiveness. And I don't care what you say, I am going to kill Jar-Jar. Before the story, let me re-acquaint you with the fact that PG-13 movies (and T fics) are allowed to say the f-word once. And in this chapter, Ratchet will. Thanks again, almighty beta-reader-god INCREASE BLUE.

Disclaimer: Only the plotline is mine. Ratchet and all subsidiaries belong to Insomniac studioes. The pitas belong to the evil spirits who dwell in my bedroom. Believe me, you do NOT want to know how I learned about those pitas. Planet Naboo and Jar-Jar Binks all belong to Lucasfilms Ltd. The Zeddites and all that shit belong to Simon & Schuster and Viacom. Cannibal Corpse and Cradle of Filth belong to themselves (respectively, not collectively). Can you find the line from the internet cartoon "Star Wars Jedi Training" (Property of Metal Maverick)? Hint: It's said by Jar-Jar's ashes.

LOCATION: MEGAPOLIS OUTSKIRTS, RATCHET'S HOUSE

It was the day that Clank was supposed to return from rehab. Everything was ready for their big celebratory road trip. Ratchet and Angela were making out in the front seats as Clank dropped into the back seat, a little disoriented after his sudden drop After a bit of awkwardness and the unsure greetings after a long separation, they took off. Clank, feeling that he should try to be sociable and at least show that he still had some communication skills left, said "Well where are we going?" Ratchet told him "Planet Naboo. There's this big concert there, and we're going." Clank had never heard of it. But to show that he was interested, he then asked "Who's playing?" Ratchet simply answered "It's Cannibal Corpse and Cradle of Filth." Clank was confused. "But I thought Angela didn't like heavy metal." Angela replied with excitement, "Well Ratchet's arranged for me to spend the day at a really top-notch spa." It was then that they arrived at the 2-parsec-long line of ships waiting to dock for the concert.

LOCATION: NABOO ORBIT, TEMPORARY PARKING GARAGE

It seemed that the concert was going to be quite popular, as it took over four hours to get to the parking garage. And can you guess who the parking aide was? Yupper-doodles! It was Jar-Jar Binks! Our heroes drove up and he exclaimed with over-dramatic cheerfulness, "Meesa called Jar-Jar Binks! Yousa be parkin' in section C-76 now, okey day?" Ratchet's eye was already twitching in annoyance from his squeaky, headache-inducing voice and incredibly irritating grammar. Clank was asleep in back, and Angela was barely keeping control in the face of everybody's "favorite" Gungan.

"God, I just met it and I ALREADY hate it. Can I kill it?" said Ratchet only just managing to not lash out and throttle the infuriating creature right there and then.

Replied Angela, twitching in sadistic glee: "The bigger the gun, the better the kill."

"Uh oh!" shrilled the irritating freak as Ratchet pulled out the Zodiac and without hesitation slaughtered Jar-Jar in a very painful way. The pile of ashes where he once stood whined "Augh! Meesa spine!" in the same irritating squeak, as the infamous bleu-cheese stuffed pitas devoured it. Satisfied with their achievement, they parked and walked to the tram down to the planet. Angela got on the transport that worked as a bus and had a stop at the lake country spa (Yes, that place where Anakin and Padme got married! It got turned into a spa!) as the two guys boarded the transport to the concert.

LOCATION: PLANET NABOO CONCERT GROUNDS, AFTER THE CONCERT

The concert was over, and Ratchet was carrying an unconscious Clank on his shoulder. He had lasted through Cradle of Filth, but had fainted in disgust about 30 seconds into the Cannibal Corpse set. Even Ratchet was more than a touch nauseous during their set. They had started with "NecroPedophilia", which doesn't do justice to how putrid their set was. When Clank revived about halfway back to the ship, he promptly barfed all over the seat and said to Ratchet, "How the hell do you listen to that nauseating music?"

"Honestly, I'd only ever heard of Cannibal Corpse, and now that I've heard them, I think that they're just too wrong for even my tastes." replied a still-queasy Ratchet (and believe you-me, it's tough to nauseate a machine, even if he was a living thing originally), "Although the Cradle of Filth set was awesome."

"It was... much more tolerable." replied the chibi lombax guardedly. The transport then arrived. The two species-swapped comrades walked to the ship and sat. Soon, Angela made her appearance. She was now wearing a beautiful teal dress that looked like it was made of velvet. Her hair was freshly permed and she looked ready to go to a fancy ball, an aura of exquisiteness hovering about her almost visibly. She walked up as the duo's jaws unhinged and succumbed to the unrelenting force of gravity.

"What?" she asked innocently, knowing that she looked like a goddess and could get nearly anything from the boys. They rehinged their jaws.

Ratchet then managed to stutter, "Wow. You look... uh, stunning! But no time to talk now. We've got to get going. We've got to get past Ahhb'-Zedd before night falls on their capital. Those guys'll shoot us down if we pass within a hundred thousand miles of their planet. And at night? They'll shoot you down if you come within three parsecs! AND they're right between Naboo and the next refuelling station."

"Well, why don't we just go the long way around there? Or to another refuelling station?" asked Angela.

"According to the calculations I did on the ship's computer," offered Clank, "It's the closest one to us. And we'll have to run on inertia part of the way to that one as it is."

"Next time," said Angela, "Don't tell me how risky something is if we have to do it." They hopped in the ship and took off

LOCATION: EN ROUTE TO FUELLING STATION.

It was finally time to pass by Ahhb'-Zedd. Time was short. There was only four minutes left in the day in the capitol city. They were on the borderline of the daytime safe zone to make their journey quicker. Ratchet sped the ship up enough to pass in time, his heart pounding with the knowledge of what would happen if he didn't make it in time. Suddenly, everyone heard a sickening crunch from the fuselage and an alarm went off somewhere. The emergency slowdown parachute had been ripped out of the hatch by the activation of the emergency fuel stores!

"Oh shit!" shouted our dear robo-lombax. He pressed the "release parachute" switch. Nothing.

"Do something! Detatch the parachute!" shouted Angela.

"Whaddaya think I'm trying to do!" yelled back Ratchet in a hysterical tone. He kept smashing buttons frantically until the parachute finally detached. Then he noticed the button that detached the chute and saw that the label said "Jettison emergency fuel tanks". Then, they heard something slice through their ship's back end, barely leaving the cockpit intact. The ship shook violently and they were thrown about mercilessly, Angela hitting her head against the wall hard amidst the red flashing lights and loud beeping that had already begun inside the cockpit. To make things even worse they began being sucked in by a tractor beam to the night-graced capitol of Ahhb'-Zedd. As the ship began to nosedive, Ratchet uttered the one appropriate phrase for the moment. "Oh fucking shit."

End of chapter 5.

Hope you all liked it. Chapter 6 (the final chapter) will be up in a few months. If you can't wait? TOO FRICKIN' BAD, BIZZNATCHES! BLAST SOME AMON AMARTH AND BEHEMOTH AND SHIT! Here's to randomly slaughtering irritating celebs! (read: Paris Hilton and Pauly Shore) All I ask of you readers is that, if you smoke weed, think of this story as you puff that herb. Why? 'Cuz I said so! And also, for everyone else, read and review. No flames.


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